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Well, the Celtic Winter Gathering concert was nothing short of amazing. And humbling. And loving. And fun. And incredible. And….the list goes on.

The turnout simply astounded me (the show sold out and sadly 25 or more folks had to be turned away at the door), as I’d never have dreamed of that kind of thing happening. All of the performances were nothing short of brilliant and the entire evening seemed to have this very “warm glowing happy fog” vibe to it (and not just for Paul and I). In the end I think it took about 2-3 days for me to really get my head around the whole thing.

Grand Finale

Best of all, our friend Karen did such a wonderful job producing the whole event that I’m learning now just how multifaceted the night ultimately was. There were several layers of things happening all evening, and so the “benefit” – which had its ostensible focus on Paul & I – is actually starting to bear fruit far wider than just the two of us. This makes me extremely happy. A space was created for all of these different rivers to come together and intermingle….or the soil was tilled and more than one kind of seed was planted and they are now beginning to grow….choose your imagery, but the point is: the good was spread around. It puts me in mind of Dave Rankine & Liz Jefferson’s Spiritfest events, where a focus on creativity in the service of community leads to an outflowing of benefits for all, many of which are not foreseen.

And that’s pretty much what we had on January 14th – a community generating benefit through creative activity. And we were lucky enough to be part of it.

Group Shot

So here’s where I get to say thanks in e-print:

To Beth, Les, Mary, Paul, Rob, David, Fernando, Saskia, Steafan, Oisin, Eile, Ayisha, Bob, Carole, Cathy, Joanne, Kathryn, Mike, Ruth…..thank you for the gift of joy through your music and art;

To Lawrence, Amy, Christa, Earl and the staff at the Registry Theatre….thank you for the gift of your time, expertise and wonderful facility;

To all of our friends, old and new…..for your generosity in joining us and sharing the evening;

And mostly to Karen….thank you for your extraordinary organizational work in creating such a rich event and for your loving friendship.

Karen

New Year, Early Morning

It’s 3:00 am, the first day of 2012. I sit here, apartment quiet, doing some late night computer organizing and listening to “Absent Friends” from Lunasa’s album, Se. I think to myself: I gotta learn that tune – its gorgeous.

As I listen and go through my bookmarks, I come across the website of a dear friend whom I haven’t seen in far too long and drop him a line to say “Happy New Year”. I am aware of a connection between the tune and my impulse to contact my ”absent friend” and I’m quite glad of it.

Those kinds of seemingly random, innocuous connections are around more often than we realize, I think. And they can provide the impulse to act, to reach out, to communicate. Perhaps comforting another. And perhaps that comfort is something we have no way of knowing about until after the fact; it lies dormant, awaiting only the right conditions to come to light.  Once it does, it then can become the ground out of which further benefit can grow, the cycle spreading, continuing on and on, touching how many others we don’t know and likely will never know. All of which has its genesis in the smallest of impulses.

May the coming year be full of such innocuous connections.

Peace & Blessings,
J.

Our friend Karen MacLeod  (whom I wrote about in a previous post) has done a very lovely thing. Shortly after I was admitted to hospital this past July, and as expenses mounted, she approached me with the idea of presenting a concert event to try to offset the financial issues we incurred during my treatment. Never had anyone done something like this for me before, and I wasn’t quite sure what to say, except a rather meek, “thank you.”

Jump forward 6 months and we’re just about 2 weeks away from The Big Evening. The concert takes place at the Registry Theatre here in Kitchener on Sat January 14, 2012 and features 4 bands, a silent auction, original artwork by one of Ontario’s most renowned Celtic artists David Rankine, refreshments and just good old fun!

The featured performers include:

Traddicted: an ensemble traditional Irish players from Stratford and London kick it into high gear and travel the wintry roads to begin the evening’s festivities! These accomplished session musicians include Beth Beech (keyboard), Mary Lynn Ashton (fiddle), Les Starkey (bodhran) and Paul Gribbon (uillean pipes).

Gaedelica: inspired by poems and prayers of the Scottish Highlands and Western Isles, Karen MacLeod’s songs are infused with haunting melodies and intricate guitar work. (I’ll be joining Karen for a few selections as well)

Dulcimerhead: visual artist and former Presbyterian elder joins up with Norse death metal percussionist to create Celtic music the way Hendrix would have wanted it. (It’s true. You can’t make that up.) David Rankine on Appalachian dulcimers and Fernando Villalobos on percussion will raise eyebrows and spirits with their “Celtic-Persian Trance” improvisations.

Cairdreas: Multiple UK award winners and arguably Ontario’s King and Queen of traditional British Isles folk music, Steafan Hannigan and Saskia Tomkins bring several of their 800+ instruments–and singer Marsala Lukianchuk–to play a rousing set of tunes and songs from the Seven Alternative Celtic Nations: Ireland, Scotland, Brittany, Sweden, Romany, North Carolina, and Argentina ;-)

Here’s the poster for the evening, created by Mr. Rankine:

Ticketing and other details can be found on the event’s Facebook page.

Camino

A few months ago while I was in hospital I picked up a copy of Julie Kirkpatrick’s book, The Camino Letters , in which she recounts her experience of walking the pilgrim trail of the Camino De Santiago De Compostela. Filled with soul-searching and self-reflection, it seemed an apt title to read since I was doing similar soul-searching and self-reflection.  However, as one thing led to another, I didn’t read it and have only returned to it in the past couple of weeks. Interestingly, “The Camino” has been very present in my life over that last little while – not just in finally reading Kirkpatrick’s book, but in film (we recently saw Emilio Estevez’s “The Way”, based on the Camino pilgrimage) and in music (listening to Oliver Schroer’s recording, Camino).

There is something very inspiring and appealing about the notion of the pilgrim road: the cleansing of it, the discipline, the journey. Perhaps it is the resonance between these things and my own recent health and family issues that is the key to my being drawn to it. Certainly the past year has been full of great change, loss, fear and uncertainty. Yet, there were also many  valuable “big lessons” in the midst of all this – the silver lining, as it were – about the essential ingredients in life and how we so often neglect them (to borrow a phrase from my friend David).

It seems that the challenge of undertaking/undergoing a pilgrimage, whether physically as in the case of walking the Camino or interiorly from a hospital bed, is not just to complete the journey but to integrate the “big lessons” into the life that follows the pilgrimage. Not losing the insights or whatever you’ve learned, but finding a way to let them continue to work their transformation in you. This is something which I am finding to be a challenge. I notice that my mind is unconsciously distancing itself from my health crisis as it strives to return to a sense of normalcy. Unfortunately, as that distancing occurs the immediacy of the big lessons fades and it requires more work to maintain the felt sense of urgency that impels transformation.

In the coming months I will have to find a way to maintain that felt sense of urgency and to continue to reflect and prioritize those things that are most important to me, based on my big lessons. I will have to find a way to balance my goals and activities with the physical changes my health situation has created. I will have to find a way to live more slowly, yet at the same time, more deeply.

Perhaps, as Kirkpatrick noted at the end of her book,  this is the lesson of the pilgrim road: “Paso por paso. Step by step.” Walk mindfully. Be fully present to the journey. Be gentle; don’t be afraid.

Peace & Blessings,

J.

Tonight Saskia, October, Beth and I played our closing show of this year’s “Nollaig!” tour at the Black Creek Pioneer Village in Toronto. Talk about an amazing space to play: a 19th century town hall, lit only by oil lamps…complete with hot cider, dancing children, piano, flutes, fiddles, mandolin, that odd offspring between a fiddle and a piano known as the nyckelharpa, cittern and wonderfully appreciative and energetic crowds. It was pure magic.

Actually, the whole tour was magic, and in more ways than one.

2011 has been a year full of significant changes and challenges for almost all of us in the band. For a while there it seemed like Murphy had it in for us and we would have to cancel this year’s tour. For my part, in July I learned that I had a very serious and potentially life-threatening illness and spent the Summer and most of Fall in and out of hospital. My musical activities were put on hold indefinitely and there was no way to be able to predict when – or if – I’d be back to playing again. So we had minimal rehearsal time; material was chosen and arranged on the fly; and the usual window for booking our venues was pretty much non-existent. But thanks to the wonderful energy, enthusiasm and determination of my band mates ( or “my lovelies” as I think of them), the ball got rolling and we got out there , hammed it up and over 9 shows between Stratford and Newcastle made some pretty awesome music. In fact, in spite of Murphy’s nefarious designs, this year turned out to be our most successful tour yet.

My "lovelies" & I (Carnegie Gallery, Dundas, ON - 3 Dec 2011)

We played to consistenly packed houses and several venues immediately booked us for repeat performances in 2012. There was also this wonderful sense of experimentation and adventure in the band that ratcheted the music up several notches…and the folks in the seats responded!  Amidst all of this really cool stuff, there were two particular highlights which made it all so memorable.

The first came at our Flying Cloud Folk Club debut in Toronto. I’d heard that Brandon Besharah, Saskia’s other half in 2ish, was going to be at the gig, so I asked her if they’d like to do an opening set for us. Saskia had been raving about the project for a good long while, and I’d done some work with Brandon a few months back (who is likewise flippin’ amazing), so I was really keen to hear them live. Anyway, they agreed and that night all became right with the world. The sounds were just incredible! And if that wasn’t enough, we got Steafan up to join us for some tunes towards the end of the evening and the house just rocked. So yeah, musical ecstasy abounded that night.

The second bit came during the Dundas/Guelph leg of the tour. At both shows we had some special friends and fellow musicians join us for a renditon of “The Flutemaker’s Waltz,” a tune I’d written for flute and whistle maker Michael Copeland back when we were both living in Philadelphia, PA. These folks had taken a shine to the tune and began playing it at sessions in the area and teaching it to other players. Now, this is a great compliment in and of itself, but it didn’t end there.

While I was in hospital, there was a day when I was lying in my room and I heard music out in the hallway. As loud music is usually discouraged in that kind of setting, I found this rather odd. The fact that said music got progressively louder and seemed to be coming towards my room specifically piqued my interest even further. The next thing I know, my friends Cathy, JoAnne and Kathryn are in my room, playing this really pretty tune for me since I wasn’t in any shape to play music for myself. (Of course, I’m speechless by this point.) Then I realize that they’re in my room, playing my own tune for me. (I’m now speechless and in danger of losing my composure). It was a profoundly loving, healing and humbling experience – and one of the most powerful that I had during the whole time I was in treatment. So having these same folks come up and play the tune with the band at shows that, by all accounts probably should not have even happened this year, was deeply moving.

Ornamentation

Finally, none of this would have been possible without all of the fantastic people who hosted us at house concerts (for information on how to host us at a house concert, email me) or presented us throughout the tour. Not to mention the many folks who came out to the shows and choose to spend their evening with us, supporting live, independent music instead of hanging out with their laptops or waiting for the concert to “come out on CD.” Being able to have so much fun and play for so many people was – and is – a true blessing, one for which I am always grateful and often humbled by.

What’s to come in 2012? We’re finally talking about getting into the studio and recording, which means more writing and arranging and noodling about.  If all goes well, there will be a shiny, new “Nollaig!” CD ready for stuffing in stockings next Christmas. We’re also planning to expand the tour, aiming for at least a dozen shows even farther afield. And maybe – just maybe – there might be some summer festival appearances during the year.

So here’s to best laid plans: may they bear fruit and bring us all together.

Peace & Blessings,

J.

Here’s some news that I’m very excited to share. My good friend and Gaedelica collaborator, Karen MacLeod, has decided to record a 5 song EP and she’s invited me to play in on a couple of tracks. We laid down my parts a last week and judging from what I’ve heard thus far, its going to be lovely. I don’t know the title yet, but it should be available mid-January 2012.

Availability, ordering and other such info to come as I find out myself!

Peace & Blessings,

J.

IHE, Rockwell Style

A neat photo of a concert that the The Irish Heritage Ensemble did back in March. Makes me feel like we’re in a Rockwell painting, which is a very cool thing.

Photo by Gary Moon.

Irish Heritage Ensemble, March 2011

“Meditation is never one thing; you’ll experience moments of peace, moments of sadness, moments of joy, moments of anger, moments of sleepiness. The terrain changes constantly, but we tend to solidify it around the negative: “This painful experience is going to last the rest of my life.” The tendency to fixate on the negative is something we can approach mindfully; we can notice it, name it, observe it, test it, and dispel it, using the skills we learn in practice.”

-Sharon Salzberg, from “Sticking With It” ( Tricycle.com)

A perfect moment

Sunset at Wasaga Beach, Winter

This morning as I sat in the living room, my mood coloured by a variety of negative feelings, I noticed that there was a moment where all the ambient noise outside our apartment window seemed to simply stop. Construction work across the street, traffic, pedestrians – even the birds –  all seemed to become quiet, like an in-breath, waiting. It was the most peaceful, healing space.

And then I realized that it was indeed, like the breath: being present to the moment of breathing, to now, with all of its peace and spaciousness. I then further realized that this same experience is always available to us, if we can just learn to be present to what is going on now, without getting wrapped up in our stories of the future or concerns of the past (neither of which are actually happening in the present moment).  In my own context, it helped me to remember that all things are workable when related to this sense of “nowness” , since it throws into relief what actually requires dealing with versus the emotional overlay that I bring to it.

None of this is original insight; it is basic shamatha (breathing) meditation practice. But its the first time in recent experience that the insight was so immediate and personal.

“A thought is only a link, and a link cannot bind you.” ~dpr

Peace & Blessings,

J.

The New Muse

I have fallen in love, I think. I don’t believe its only a matter of infatuation, or the attraction of “the new and novel.” My senses are captivated. I find myself losing hours at a clip, completely absorbed, with no awareness of the passage of time and not wanting to be anywhere else. I’m happy in a way that I haven’t been in several years: everything is new and exciting, nothing is taken for granted.

I have found …the mountain dulcimer. (Ok, so the first paragraph was cheesy. Deal.)

But its true – this simple little instrument has grabbed me in a way I never thought it would. Somehow its freed up  parts of me that are always so concerned with ‘getting it right’ and opened them up to the world of “Wow, what if I do this?” There’s an element of joy and openness I experience when I play it that I’m quickly becoming addicted to. Its constant discovery; being led down musical pathways that at once surprise and delight.

I’m intentionally exploring the dulcimer without looking for reputable teachers, extensive source recordings, or a concern with learning the traditional way to play. It’s all about taking chances, playing what I can in the moment, trial and error. Trying to tap into what I feel inside and finding a way to make it beautiful when it comes out. Sure, my playing is simplistic at the moment, but when a tune comes out of that instrument that can make me shed a tear, well, I’m gonna trust the muse and the ego-driven need for being clever be damned.

"Daljegg: The Beginning"

My new  muse has also led to a wonderful opportunity to work with my friend Dave Rankine (yes, THAT Dave Rankine - THE Celtic Art Guy of Ontario) in a new project called Daljegg. Dave has this whole “open space creativity” thing going on which is just amazing. No performance is ever the same! (Heck, neither are the tunes!) For Daljegg  its consciously all about opening the portals, creating the space and inviting folks to walk through and hang out for a while. Improvisational Soundscapes. Sonic Mandalas.

And along with all of this discovery is a renewed sense of where music needs to fit in the Big Picture – as a way of creating bridges between people. It has to be Joy, not work. It has to be shared more than sold. It shouldn’t “wreck yer head” as my friend Phil is so fond of saying.

Yeah, I’m flying high.

Peace & Blessings,

J.

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